More often than not, I find myself feeling torn. I’ve talked about my decision to come home before, and ultimately, after “politely” being told to leave Australia, I know it was the best decision for me.
The truth is, I have a lot of healing, a lot of soul searching, and a lot of self discovery to do. There’s been a lot that has happened in the course of a year, yes, but the soul searching and healing is less reflective of the pain this past year and instead addresses my relationship with myself: my ability to be confident, to be less reliant on external sources for validation, and my ability to be just be happy with myself. There was truly no better place to work on those things than by staying home.
And though I know need to be here, it’s been really, really fucking hard being home for a handful of different reasons.
For starters, I’ve got next to no money to do all that I want to do – for example, have my own place, take writing and photography classes, buy a winter wardrobe, save money for my next trip, or go out and have fun. The thing about New York that makes it expensive is that there is seriously always something to do every second of the day.
I’ve also not made it easier for myself to get settled, because every day I pine for what I don’t have rather than focusing on what I do have. I’ll sit and Google pictures of Australia, or I’ll read Buzzfeed articles about why Sydney is so amazing. I found myself in tears the other day because I watched a Tourism Australia video. Talk about sitting in sadness versus laying down in it and wrapping yourself up in it like a blanket.
When I left Italy, China, and Korea, my friends all left as well. (Also, it was my own choice to leave, but that is a different story.) No one was there anymore, which made it an easier goodbye when it came time to leave. The hardest part about letting go of Sydney is the fact that my life there is still happening each and every day; I’m just no longer a part of it. I’m no longer a part of my own life. Life there happily went on without me, and I see it every day thanks to the ever-evasive world of social media (I hate to love you, social media) with my friends posting pictures of the beaches or the races or whatever it is they’re doing “back home”. They’re still together and smiling and laughing, and I used to be right there with them. It’s how I used to feel seeing my friends in Brooklyn all together when I was living overseas, and let me tell you: That shit sucks.
And truly, it feels like Sydney – which really never crossed my path all too much three years ago – now edges its way into every aspect of my day in some way. Just the other night my friend and I were waiting for the train. The platform was crowded with a million and one people on it, and a small little Asian woman with a thick accent came over to me and asked me for help with the trains. Once we answered her questions, she mentioned that she wasn’t from here. Without us asking where she is from, she decided to tell us.
“I’m from Australia,” she said in her Chinese-American sounding accent.
I started to laugh in disbelief, as did my friend Jamie. “Wait – I’m sorry – you’re from Australia?”
“Yes, I am from Sydney,” she added.
I explained that I used to live there, and she decided to tell me she thinks Sydney is better than New York. The woman thanked us and walked away, and I turned to my friend Jamie.
“Okay, I honestly didn’t believe you when you said this kind of stuff keeps happening to you all the time, but I do now,” Jamie said and laughed. “That was just weird.”
Yes, weird occurrences like that make it harder to get settled, but I’ve made it even harder for myself simply because I’ve not given New York the chance it deserves. My longing for Sydney plays a role, but there is also a part of me that’s scared to fall so in love that I won’t leave again. There is no denying that New York is an absolutely fascinating city, and when I let my guard down and let the city in, I’m amazed by how incredible it is.
New York is the kind of place where you can truly be who ever the hell you want any day of the week. There are no boundaries of expression in this city, and even the most ridiculous seems to blend in seamlessly (with maybe a laugh here or there from passerbys). Just the other day, I was walking down the street and this man was standing the middle of an incredibly crowded 5th Avenue just near 34th Street. He was wearing cutoff white jean shorts, a white T shirt, and he was holding a white cross. He had this mane of black hair that swallowed most of his head, and he stood there screaming something to the effect of, “You are my angels!”
No one batted an eye (though car horns were going wild), but the guy beside me on the phone said, “The characters you see in New York, man. This guy’s standing in the middle of the street holding a cross looking like some old ass Elvis.”
New York really is unique, and so are the people who live here. It is a place of creation and, without sounding too pompous, I truly feel that so many of the world’s best ideas start and end in New York. Having worked as a journalist overseas, I have come to learn that people in today’s world use New York as a barometer of where they should be and what they should be doing. This is a city where diversity thrives (and not the way silly Katy Shaw tries to show in her music video about Brooklyn).
I went from living in South Korea, where no matter what I did to blend in, my “ex-pat” was always showing. My big, green eyes, my white skin, and my auburn/brown/red hair (my hair color has a mind of its own) always made me physically very different. Then I went to living in Australia, an incredibly beautiful country but also a fairly homogenous country. Go to the beach and you’d be pressed to find someone who isn’t white. There is definitely a large Asian population – specifically Koreans, Chinese, and some Vienamese – living in Sydney, and there are loads of travelers living out the dream, but it’s no New York; Sydney doesn’t even come close.
You want to learn a language, you could easily move to New York. Head to any neighborhood in Brooklyn and you’ll feel like you stepped off the train to another country. New York is just really and truly a world in itself.
New York, I am sorry I’ve been so cold and so fickle. I’m sorry I’ve been so mean and take you for granted or compare you to other places. You’re so ridiculously intense you scare the shit out of me sometimes, and you can be so damn relentless (not to mention you can smell so disgustingly awful), but there is beauty to you and an energy to you that can’t be found in any other city around the world.
There’s definitely a long road ahead, New York, but we’ll get there. We’ll definitely get there.
